Black and White
by HakunaMatata14
Summary: Nikita Karkaroff has been a proud Gryffindor since the night she was sorted. Now, though, with the rise of Lord Voldemort and her friend's dangerous plans, she's starting to realize that life is not simply black and white.
1. Beginning

I lay awake in the cool summer night. My thoughts are like those pestilent gnats that just won't leave you alone. They swarmed and buzzed, wreaking havoc on my carefully ordered view of the world. It took forever and a day to for me to form an opinion, but it took impressive logic to change my mind on any subject. But now, all of my ideals and beliefs were turned to ash. All because of that damned Severus Snape. Before, my world was carefully organized into good and evil, Gryffindors and Slytherins. Now, it seemed that a bomb had blown through my barriers of logic and reason. Nothing was as it seemed before.

_**Flashback**_

_I carelessly doodled on the side of my parchment, unconcerned with how the various ingredients of Felix Felicis combined to create the potion that caused luck. 'I'll need my own swig of that stuff just to pass N.E.W.T.S. next year,' I thought to myself grimly, shoving my half-assed essay into my infamous Batman backpack. I looked over at Sirius, who I realized was looking shifty. Getting up from the plush burgundy armchair, I went and sat next to him on the loveseat._

_ "What's new Pussy Cat?" I asked, referring to my nickname for Sirius and the famous Tom Jones song. He grinned at me in the same way he does when he takes a prank too far, a look I had grown used to. _

_ "Not much, Batman," he said, slinging his arm around me. James and Peter looked up from their essays in distress at Sirius's maniacal state. We were the only ones left in the common room, staying in the school per Moony's request. He told us, like a father would children, to have our homework done by the time he came back from his transformation._

_ "Out with it, Sirius," James said sternly. "What have you done this time?"_

_ Pads leaned forward conspiratorially, a mad glint in his eye. "Let's just say that we won't have to be dealing with Snape for much longer." This immediately piqued everyone's attention, including mine._

_ "Well don't leave us out of it!" Pete exclaimed, mousy face wide with excitement._

_ "What'd you think up, Pads?" James asked, hazel eyes as big as a house elf's ears. _

_ "Do tell," I said, understanding Sirius's excitement now. _

_ "Well," he started, "I told old Snivellus how to get into the Whomping Willow and-"_

_ "You did what!" James yelled, standing up and grabbing his wand. Peter's face paled as he looked between James and Sirius in concern. I stood too, grabbing my mahogany wand in preparation._

_ "You idiot!" A furious James screamed, grabbing fistfuls of Sirius's shirt and hoisting him up. "You're going to kill him and get Remus thrown in Azkaban you little-!"_

_ "This is not the right time, James," I said in irritation. I was already grabbing my and James's cloaks, planning how we were going to rescue Snape without him finding out who we were or about Remus's condition. He looked at me and nodded grimly, accepting his cloak from me. We bolted to the portrait hole and down the steps like we were being chased by a herd of dragons, hoping we weren't too late. _

_ Out of breath and with a stitch in our sides, we arrived on the ground floor after avoiding both Filch and Mrs. Stephens, the caretaker's rheumy-eyed cat. We dashed out onto the Hogwarts grounds, blood and adrenaline pumping through our veins, just in time to see a figure disappear beneath the Whomping Willow. The two of us transfigured ourselves into our Animagus forms almost simultaneously, him a proud stag and I a bat. Bats don't look nearly as graceful as birds in mid-flight but I had much more control than one, able to make fast turns and stop unexpectedly. Just like me on my broomstick as the Gryffindor Seeker. _

_Covering the distance quicker than James, with the help of my webbed wings, I navigated as best I could through the whipping branches of the Whomping Willow. I narrowly avoided a branch from cutting my head off, but was lacerated across the tip of my wing by another branch for my efforts. _

_ After shaking off the pain, I unexpectedly slammed into the trunk of the massive tree. I gathered my wits as I limped to the knot in the trunk and pressed my whole transfigured body against it. Immediately, James sped inside the carefully concealed hollow near the trunk. Knowing my presence would be an encumbrance rather than helpful, I escaped from beneath the hulking tree. Adrenaline was surging through my body and I had difficulty transfiguring back to my human form but eventually succeeded. _

_ Until now, I had been running completely on autopilot. Doing what my gut told me to do as a knee-jerk reaction. But now, my head was spinning and I felt dizzyingly sick. I was terrified, both for Remus's and, I'll admit it, Snape's sake. More than that, I was mad. I was furious at Sirius's blindness toward the repercussions his actions could have on other people. But most of all, I felt betrayed. It wasn't like it was my life he had put at risk, but the piercing pain of deception said otherwise. James and I could both be thrown into Azkaban for a month just for being illegal Animagi, let alone the accusations for accessories to murder. 'Attempted murder,' I reminded myself. 'He isn't dead . . . yet.'_

_ After several tense minutes full of worry, I begin to wonder if Moony had killed them both. But no, just as this thought entered my head, I see a figure exit the small tunnel. What looks like a corpse is following him, ghostlike and charmed to follow the silhouette. I feel the urge to run until I realize that it's James and the nightmarish thing following him must be Snape's corpse. 'Oh God,' I thought, 'What have I done?' And, to both my surprise and James's, I start to bawl. Huge, wracking sobs shake my body as I bury my face in my hands, pressing my palms into the sockets of my eyes, all of the torturous things I'd put him through coming to light. I was desperate to remove the vision that was seared into my mind; Severus Snape being eaten alive by a werewolf, who was one of my best friends. Guilt curls up in my stomach, I feel like I had been punched in the gut and was now gasping for air. How could I have been worried about going to Azkaban while Snape could have been dead, gone forever? This starts a set of even more violent sobs than before. _

_ Suddenly, I feel familiar arms wrap around my small shoulders, and a familiar voice whispered; "Don't cry, Nikki, it's okay, it's okay. He's just unconscious." Immense relief welled up inside my chest, surging through my body like a dam had broken. My sobbing recedes to a quiet snuffling, then nothing. James helps me up, and I wipe at my cheeks furiously, desperate to remove any evidence of my tears. The three of us continue up to the castle, James and I followed ominously by Snape's enchanted body._

_ I was still shook up from earlier and embarrassed that James had seen me cry. I tried to seem as normal as possible as I avoided his gaze. I looked out over the lake, the moon's light reflected off of its surface. The pearl-like smoothness of the water was emitting a burning light that seared your eyes. The satellite was no brighter than usual, but in relation to the surrounding darkness it was a blazing fireball, the incandescent white light blinding against the fathomless black sky. _

_**End Flashback**_

I stood up, crossing my chambers to reach my window, its picturesque view morphed into something from a child's nightmares. The tall, forbidding shadows of the trees overlapped and intertwined, forming a grotesquely beautiful landscape that looked so much different in daylight. Above them, the full moon loomed, aloof and unconcerned with the petty concerns of mere men.

I couldn't fathom how Sirius could have done such a horrible thing. Was there a dark side of my friend that I had no idea about? Or did he just have a moment of pure stupidity? He had to know that he was effectively killing Snape by telling him about the Willow, right? Did he think that Snape deserved death? Sirius would never answer these questions by himself, and I could only make the matter worse by asking him about it.

And what about Snape? He had gone into the tunnel, suspecting nothing. Why? What had Sirius told him that made him explore that dark, foreboding passage? Surely he must have realized it was a trick? I knew not the answers to these questions, either. I was determined to find out, though. I was determined to find out what really happened That Night.


	2. Plans

**A/N: Everyone who reads this: Thank you!**

**Everyone who reviews: Thank you SO much! Criticism is definitely welcome. Tell me what you hate, what you like, but if you're shy and don't want to review that's cool too. **

**P.S. I don't own these characters, so please don't sue me. I don't got any money, anyways.**

I walked down the street, a slight skip in my step. Not even the hot, humid air of summertime could drag me down. My brother did not seem to share my sentiments.

"It's so hot," he groaned, trailing his feet behind me.

"Did you just now notice that?" I replied dryly. "How very observant of you." I could practically feel his scowl bore into my back at this remark. The two of us were walking down Diagon Alley, which wasn't really an alley, more of a wide boulevard. The storefront was almost always busy, but it was especially full today, as there were many people out shopping for their Hogwarts materials. Children ran unsupervised down the streets, their faces pushed up against windows, gazing at the displays of candy and broomsticks as if they held the secret to the meaning of life. Friends greeted each other, hugging and laughing with undisguised joy. I exchanged a few hugs and hello's myself, running into a few friends on my way to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, where I would meet Sirius, James, Peter and Remus. I was a bundle of nerves, thinking of nothing but That Night, wondering if it would affect us. I hoped that it was just a bump in the road, a hurdle we had already jumped. But deep down, I knew that was not so. Something this big needed to be addressed before it could be overcome. I resolved to let someone else come forward, being the coward that I was.

I continued along my way down the cobblestone street, paying little attention to my surroundings. It was a while before I noticed the distinctive lack of footsteps and muttering behind me. I whirled around, looking for Igor's long black cloak that sticks out like a dragon in a chicken coup in the sizzling summer heat. I spotted it just as it turned into a shady side street that I had just passed. Out of nowhere, cold black fear gripped my heart in its iron fist and I raced towards him, desperate to catch him for no reason other than my illogical instincts. My feet pounded against the stones as my heart pounded in my ears, pushing people aside in the pursuit of my little brother.

I immediately halted, almost as if I had run into a particularly strong shield charm. I could see Igor walking away from me, into the dark, foreboding shadows of Knockturn Alley, meeting up with a pair of shady figures, probably Death Eaters or, at the very least, Voldemort supporters. I knew Igor was a fan of Voldemort's policies, but this? He couldn't actually _want _to join them, right? Wait a minute, what am I thinking? This is _Igor_. Igor, who had nightmares every night after our mom died, who stole cookies from the cookie jar when he was five but felt guilty and ended up confessing, who loved to hold his mother's hand while she was still alive. Igor could never do something as heinous as joining Lord Voldemort; he just didn't have it in him. Despite this, a thread of doubt weaved itself around my heart, constricting it as it futilely tried to pump blood through my system. I looked behind me, watching the merry pedestrians of Diagon Alley walk by. With a sigh, I turned back around to face the stark contrast of Knockturn Alley, where people in dark cloaks shuffled past each other to conduct their business. With a furtive glance behind me, I started to follow Igor and his two sinister companions down the alleyway.

On second thought, this was probably not my best plan, the main reason being that I was wearing muggle clothes, a pastel tank depicting a skull with my favorite pair of blue jeans. As a general rule of thumb, you _do not_ wear muggle clothes in Knockturn Alley. You just don't do it. There are too many Pure-Blood believers and not nearly enough witnesses, though since I was behind my brother and his acquaintances they did not notice me. However, the few people that were there definitely did see me, and their sneers were more than enough to know that I wasn't welcome. Despite this, I continued on my way, making sure that I went unnoticed by my mark. I carefully observed the three figures that I was following, Igor was in the middle and the shortest of the three, while the one on the left was tall, probably around six feet. The man, or woman, on the left was shorter, about average height. Other than this, I couldn't glean any other information due to their long, black cloaks and the hoods that obscured their faces and heads.

After a while I began to worry. Where could they be taking Igor? Was he being forced to go with these people? Should I intervene and try to save him? Just as I was considering this, the group turned left down a side alley. I quickened my steps, trying not to look suspicious, and arrived at the same side street. I looked around the corner just in time to see Igor and company enter a decrepit brick building. I waited a few moments, hoping that Igor would come out soon, but he didn't. I cursed my idiotic brother and turned the corner down the ominous alleyway. A prickle of fear rolled down my spine like an ice cube, cold and making me shiver. Why was I acting like this? It was just a dark alleyway, something a Hufflepuff would quake in fear at, but not a Gryffindor. Squaring my shoulders, I walked towards the door and was just about to turn the rusty knob when I saw it. A skull with a snake coming out of its mouth was carved just above the doorknob.

In that moment, everything clicked in my head, like I had just found the last piece to a complicated puzzle. Igor wearing a cloak in the summertime wasn't because he wanted to look dark and scary, he was hiding his Mark. All those pureblood fanatics he hung out with weren't just talking smack, they were preparing, preparing to join Lord Voldemort. Igor, my annoying little brother, was training to be a Death Eater. The thought made me sick, bile was rising in the back of my throat and dark, surging anger raced through my veins, lighting my body on fire. Reaching out, I wrenched the doorknob hard to the right, so hard I would have broken it had it not been magically enforced. Taking out my wand, I cast _Alohomora _repeatedly, angry tears flowing freely down my cheeks. I gave up and slid down the door, sobbing relentlessly at what I had lost and how I could have prevented it. I should have hugged him more, talked to him more, and listened to him when he complained about his teachers and his fellow students. Maybe if I had been a better sister my heart wouldn't feel like it was rubbed with sandpaper, leaving it raw and sensitive. If I hadn't mocked him during school, he wouldn't be making the biggest mistake of his life. Worst of all, there was nothing I could do to change my mistakes.

I sat there for a long time. I'm not sure how long, but the time passed like water through my fingers, too fast for me to notice it was there. Eventually, I felt someone opening the door I was leaning against and I scrambled to my feet, my hand shaky as I pointed my wand at the figure stepping outside. It was Igor. I dropped my hand to my side and ran forward to embrace him. He stood stiffly against me, his back rigid as a board. When I finally released him there was a strange expression on his face, but it disappeared as quickly as a unicorn in the Forbidden Forest.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me farther down the alleyway, out of sight.

"Following you," I replied sourly, anger beginning to replace my worry. "What have you gotten into Igor?"

"None of your damn business," he said defiantly.

I grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at me. His eyes were blue, like mine, with streaks of grey as delicate as sea foam radiating from his pupil. High Russian cheekbones graced his long, narrow face. He looks so much like me, I wonder if it's possible for our roles to have been switched, he the protective older brother and me the obstinate little sister, playing a game of tug-o'-war that could only end with both of us losing. As I thought this, he looked away from me, rubbing his left arm awkwardly.

"Please don't tell me it's true, Igor," I whispered softly, noticing the motion and understanding its meaning.

He looked up at me, young eyes hard as a dragon's scales and just as sharp. "Don't you dare pretend to care now," he snarled.

"I've always cared about you!"

"You bullied me like I was just another Slytherin, is that how you treat everyone else you 'care' about?"

"I never bullied you!"

"So what were those hexes and curses you through at me, huh? Friendly encouragement?"

This shut me up pretty quickly.

"Yeah, that's right! You don't have anything to say for yourself, do you?" he yelled, his face red with anger.

"Igor, I'm so-"

"Don't be sorry," he said. "Because I'm not. I am who I am because of you and your damn friends and I wouldn't change it for the world," he said evenly, his hot breath washing over my face. With those words he turned around and walked away, leaving me with my mouth gaping open.

I stumbled through the throngs of people in Diagon Alley, the joy that had once buoyed me now dragged me down, everyone's smiles and laughter just another weight chained to my legs. I mindlessly shuffled through the crowds, still in shock over the confrontation with my brother. Somehow I stumbled upon Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. That's when I remembered my meeting with the Marauders. The Parlor was a cute little shop with a multitude of ice cream flavors presented, like offerings, in the giant picture window. Warm, golden light streamed through the glass panes, pulling me in from the grey dusk that was falling. I opened the door to the store and as I did so a bell tinkled above my head, startling me. I looked up in surprise at the unexpected sound and was immediately assaulted by four teenage boys, hugging me and slapping me on the back while 'Where have you been?'s were shouted in my ear.

"Come on guys, give her some space," Remus said calmly, his deep, resonating tones immediately calming the other young men.

I smiled at the reaction, the embraces and being in the sudden company of my best friends granted me respite from my hopeless desperation, though now it has returned full-force. A longing at the bottom of my heart to be anywhere but here pulled at me. The four of them ushered me to their table, where melted ice cream covered the wooden surface and empty bowls were piled high. They pushed me into a chair that was only slightly sticky and plopped ungainly into theirs, except for Sirius of course, who could never look anything but graceful.

"Where were you Nikki?" asked Sirius, his smooth black hair perfectly in place, as usual. But there was something different about the way he held himself, though. It was almost as if he was slightly slumped, like he was collapsing in on himself.

Putting this thought away for later, I quickly replied. "Oh, I was shopping at Miss Selfridge. You know how distracted I get when I'm shopping." I plastered a fake smile on my face. "I'm really sorry I'm late, guys."

"We've gotten used to it by now, Batman," James said, laughing.

"Definitely," Peter added, nodding his head.

"Where are your bags?" Sirius inquired, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Huh?"

"Your bags of all the clothes you bought from that store. You never leave that place without a new wardrobe." His head was cocked to the side now, viewing me like a scientist would look at a lab rat.

My heart nearly stopped, I swear. Stupid Padfoot always had to see through my carefully crafted lies. "Oh," I said carelessly, rolling my eyes. "I left all of my Muggle money at home. You should have seen the cashier's face when I told her I forgot to bring ny pounds." Laughter echoed around the table at these words as my forgetfulness was almost as notorious as my tardiness. Even Sirius started laughing, which was a huge relief. His uproarious chortling indicated that he either believed me or was dropping the subject to discuss with me later, which I would prefer. I wanted to tell Sirius about Igor first, since he understood best what I was going through. His younger brother, Regulus, was a Slytherin as well and is obsessed with the Dark Arts.

As the laughter died down, I was about to make an excuse to leave-all I wanted to do now was curl up in a ball on my bed. Remus, however, ruined my plans as he leaned forward in excitement, scarred hands clasped together and grinning widely. "Have you heard the good news yet?"

"Good news?" I queried as everyone but James burst into fits of laughter.

"Shut up guys, it's not that funny!" he said indignantly, his face turning a bright shade of red behind his round glasses.

Sirius ruffled James's hair affectionately. "Aw, we're not laughing _at _you Jamie; we're laughing w_ith_ you." James glared at him but eventually cracked a smile, unable to be mad for long when it came to Sirius.

"What's the good news?" I asked again, feeling out of the loop.

"James is the new Head Boy!" said Remus, who looked somewhat like a proud father.

My mouth gaped open in surprise for the second time this day. Slowly, though, my astonishment morphed into excitement and all thoughts of Igor were forgotten as I grinned sneakily. "Does that mean what I think it means?" Everyone nodded their heads in sync, broad smiles etched on their faces. Except for Remus though, who looked so scared he might wet himself.

"Pranks," stated Peter, watery eyes alight with the temptations of adventure. That was all that needed to be said as we huddled together, spit-balling ideas and plans, some downright brilliant, others absolutely horrible. Even Remus joined in, though he still looked slightly worried.

That's how we spent the next two hours, talking and laughing like kids do, planning pranks and reminiscing together. Little did we know the extent of the danger that lay just beyond the coziness of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

As soon as I arrived at Karkaroff Manor, the wave of confusion and guilt hit me like a brick wall. Already I missed my friends, even though I know I shouldn't. I shouldn't be so dependent on one group of people, but I was. Their energy is my drug, their life and spirit pulls me up from a yawning canyon and sets me on my own two feet. It feels great to be on solid ground, but falling through space all over again is tiring.

And then there's Igor. Igor, who the Marauders punished relentlessly while I stayed back and watched, is now a Death Eater. Death Eaters were supposed to be those dark, faceless monsters, not my little brother. They were the shadows in your closet, the monsters under a young child's bed, and the stuff of nightmares. But now, they were real, substantial, like smoke suddenly becoming solid, something you can look at and think: 'So this is it.'

I had to make this right. I had to save Igor from making the biggest mistake of his life and rectify the damage of Sirius's error. As soon as I thought this, the sound of footprints entering my house echoed up the stairs.

My neck prickled and my heart seemed to stop beating, and then sped up as if it were trying to win a race. Goosebumps covered my arms as I cracked open my bedroom door and carelessly loud voices carried up to my ears.

"Your house is ridiculously small, Karkaroff," a nasally voice proclaimed loudly. "I thought the Karkaroffs were supposed to be wealthy."

"We were," a voice, my brother, answered. "Until my idiot of a father squandered it all."

"Well, the décor is atrocious, I mean just look at that-"

"Shut up Chandler," a voice as smooth as an undisturbed pool of water ordered, immediately quieting the nasally voice. "We're here to discuss the plan, not criticize Karkaroff's decorating skills."

I recognized the voice, it hung in the back of my mind like a bat hanging from a beam. Bat. Severus Snape is bat-like. And has a silky voice. And is standing in my house, beneath my feet, discussing some kind of plan with my little brother and some snot-nosed kid named Chandler.

Suddenly, a shadow of a plan formed in my mind, like a flower blooming in spring, spreading out and growing ever more pronounced, like clouds gathering before a storm. I know now what to do, I know how I can prevent a mistake and redeem one too.


End file.
